


The Price of Kindness

by AngeliaDark



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell, Alternate Universe - Underswap, BDSM elements, Blue Is Oblivious, Dubious Consent, Edge Is a Jerk, Humiliation, M/M, Master/Slave, Pet Play, Red Isn't Helpful, Stretch Needs a Cigarette, Voyeurism, papcest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-11-07 03:52:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11050752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeliaDark/pseuds/AngeliaDark
Summary: The Swap brothers find themselves at the mercy of the Fellverse, and kindness is never free.  To pay for that kindness, Edge decides that his lazy doppleganger could make himself useful as a pet.





	1. Chapter 1

In hindsight, Stretch could've seen it coming.

Running on three days of no sleep, jittery from three cups of Muffet's strongest honey-roasted coffee, and his brother startling him by bursting in to screech about Alphys giving him a date for Guard tryouts was only a recipe for absolute disaster. Already unfocused, his hand shaky, and the machine he was working on having an open panel with the circuits on (that he had foolishly forgotten to turn off), perhaps ramming the screwdriver in with his jumpy reflexes wasn't, in hindsight, the wisest thing to do.

To his brother's credit, those training reflexes paid off as soon as the machine began to spark and fizzle, and Stretch found himself covered by his brother's sturdier form before everything went deafening and white.

And then black.

* * *

 

 

When he got around to thinking about it later down the road, Stretch didn't know how long he had been knocked out. All the sleep he'd been neglecting finally caught up and extended his unconsciousness for longer than it should have been, blissfully unaware as he slept.

When he regained consciousness, he was first aware of a soreness in his frame he'd only experienced once before, years ago when the accident at the lab tore his HP down to one. Stretch slowly came to further consciousness, wincing as he raised a hand to rub his skull. His hand touched a wrap around his head, which was odd since he didn't know what would warrant something like that.

“...Sans...?” he called out, his voice croaking out oddly weakly as he rubbed his eye sockets and looked around.

This was not his basement.

The stone walls were scratched, chipped, and crumbling from wear and age rather than accidental, and the floor was barely clean enough to be considered hygienic. He was situated on a frayed pallet covered with a threadbare blanket and no pillow, and several dishes next to him that looked to be eaten out of already.

He frowned with confusion, turning his head to the other side and felt a jolt when he saw his brother lying close by.

Blue was lying face-down on another pallet, his armor and shirt removed to show healing bones on the back side of his frame. The memory of the explosion crashed back into him, recalling Blue shielding him from the bulk of the blast. He ignored his own ache as he tugged his body up and crawled over to Blue, putting a hesitant hand on his shoulder. “...bro...?” he said, his voice barely above a strained whisper. “...bro...Sans...?”

Blue didn't respond, too deep in his unconsciousness to react in any way. Stretch looked around almost helplessly, unable to push himself up further to get up and look for a way out, and jumped when he heard the door at the top of the stairs open.

Stretch growled, covering his brother's body with his own protectively as footsteps descended from the stairs. His soul twitched as he willed up some magic for a fight, then gasped when his soul turned blue and he was redeposited back onto his pallet.

“Don't use magic when you're still healing, you handicapped idiot,” came a rough, grating voice that made Stretch's spine jolt with recognition. He looked up, seeing a Monster nearly identical to himself step into view, holding a tray of dishware.

Oh gods, of ALL the places to end up, why did it have to be HERE!?

“Ease up on th' magic, Edgelord,” Stretch hissed out, trying to lift his arms without success and trying to sound vaguely threatening, which did absolutely nothing. Edge merely gave him an unamused look and put the tray down on a small table nearby.

“You're in no position to be making demands, ash trash,” his doppleganger replied. “In case you haven't noticed, you're in MY domain now, and we've been gracious enough to save your sorry coccyges from dusting.” He arranged the bowls on the table. “So some gratitude would be appreciated before I change my mind.”

Stretch growled, letting his body go lax and a moment later felt the blue hold on his soul let up. Deciding not to test the LOVE-teeming asshole further, he remained where he was, knowing that he nor his brother were capable of defending themselves against a whim of a bad day.

Edge finished his sorting and set a plate of food down next to Stretch before picking up a bottle and kneeling next to Blue, turning the smaller Skeleton to the side, opening his jaw, and pouring the contents in.

“...the hell are you giving him?” Stretch demanded, ignoring the food next to him. Edge shot him a look of annoyance.

“It's actual medicine,” he replied tersely. “And it cost a shit-ton of G, so don't complain about me wasting it on him.” He sat up, putting the cap back on the bottle. “And don't waste my food either. Eat it, since you're conscious.”

Stretch clenched his hands, trying his damnedest not to start up a fight, but finding it difficult, as he always did with the Edgelord. “Are you gonna tell us what happened, or not?”

Edge growled to himself, standing and gathering up the tray. “I think it's fairly obvious, unless your little accident gave you brain damage...at least more than what those disgusting cigarettes did, in any case.” He walked back toward the stairs. “Eat and heal more until Blue wakes up. I'm not explaining anything twice.” He walked up the stairs, shutting the door behind him.

In the stillness of the basement, Stretch heard a lock slide into place and couldn't help the shudder run up his spine. It took him quite some time to gather up the nerve to eat the small meal Edge set next to him, feeling the healing magic trickle through his bones that did little to make up for the taste.

Within the hour of sitting, eating, and falling back to sleep, Stretch could only worry about what exactly was happening.

* * *

 

 

Blue regained consciousness soon after, but it still took a full bottle of the medicine for him to be able to move without hurting his HP. Still, the Swap brothers weren't let upstairs out of the basement, something that Stretch found suspicious and irritating.

The only thing that made it bearable was Red, who offered more food, a bit more kindness, and explanation.

It had been a week ago that Stretch and Blue had come into their universe through a time-space fracture, looking like they had been caught in an explosion. They HAD, but it would have been worse had the fracture not happened.

Blue caught the worst of it, the back of his frame having been dealt the most damage that was slowly healing, and Stretch's HP had gone to the decimals. It might have proven fatal, had the Fell brothers not been home to hear the commotion rather than being out on the job.

“I wouldn't expect th' good will to last long,” Red said as he gathered up dishes. “It's gonna take awhile to fix our machine, and th' Boss isn't exactly charitable. Until shit's fixed up an' running, you're gonna have to pull yer weight.”

“Of course,” Blue replied in agreement. “It would be rude to just stay here. What can we do to pay you back?”

Red glanced upstairs almost nervously. “...that's for him to decide,” he finally said. “He'll be down later to discuss it. For yer own good, just agree. It's better than bein' on yer own out there.” He headed up the stairs and out of the basement before either of the Swap brothers could ask what he meant by that.

* * *

 

 

The next day, Stretch and Blue were finally allowed out of the basement.

Things seemed almost too quiet in the house, and even outside. The slightest creak or commotion almost seemed to echo through the house, which was almost spartan compared to the Swap brothers' back home. A couch, a chair, and a coffee table was all that made up the living room, other than the intimidating display of weaponry that decorated the walls. The door had five locks that were firmly in place and only a fire in the fireplace keeping the place warm.

Edge was standing by the window, clasping shutters in place and drawing curtains as an extra measure of security before he turned to face the other three Skeletons in the room. His posture was no-nonsense and all business, and Stretch had a feeling this wasn't going to be a warm and fuzzy 'talk'.

“It goes without saying that you're stuck here for the unforeseeable future,” Edge said, beginning a slow pace across the room. “And this isn't like your cushy little Swap universe.” He pinned the Swap brothers in place with a sharp red eyelight. “'Kill Or Be Killed' isn't just an arrangement of rich words. It's our literal creed that has literal consequences. So it's in your best interest to have...support here.”

“Get to th' point, Edgelord,” Stretch griped, flinching when he felt Red kick his ankle. Edge gave him an annoyed glower before his expression went almost sinister.

“Gladly, ash trash,” he replied. “My point is we're taking a high risk in keeping you here safe. And high risk is EXPENSIVE.” He paused his pacing to look between the Swap brothers. “If you're going to be staying here, you're going to be repaying us for the risk.”

Stretch scowled. “You're a real piece of work, aren't ya?” he muttered.

“Better a piece of work than a piece of meat for the Dogs to chew,” Edge shot back. “If you honestly think you or your brother can survive out there, then go on.” He took a step to the side to give a free view of the door. “You're easy pickings for EXP, and you know it.”

Stretch clenched his hands, glowering with the urge to start hurling insults when Blue put a calming hand on his shoulder.

“...we believe you,” Blue said. “And we're thankful and grateful for your hospitality, really! We're just....a little high-strung, right, Papy?” He didn't give Stretch time to answer. “I can help out as best I can...I can cook and clean and fix things! And I'm sure Papy can help out too.”

Edge contemplated the brothers for a moment before nodding. “That's what I thought,” he said, crossing his arms. “We'll hash out details later. After dinner.” He turned to Blue. “Show me what you're made of, Blue.”

Blue hopped up, nodding with determination before hurrying for the kitchen. Edge looked on, amused. “If only you could be that enthusiastic, brother.”

“Give me something to be enthusiastic about,” Red replied, rolling his eyelights. “You want peppy, go to their universe.”

“Perish the thought. And you're not going to become a lazy piece of shit while they're here, so don't even think about it. You can clean up after his enthusiastic efforts.”

Red scowled but wisely said nothing. Edge ignored him and turned to Stretch. “Now you...YOU hardly have anything to contribute, other than piecing together bits of that machine. But we'll figure SOMETHING out, don't you worry.”

“Be still, my beating heart,” Stretch monotoned, his fingers twitching for a cigarette and of course having none. He sat in tense silence until Blue announced dinner prepared, and resigned himself to whatever concoction his brother had decided to whip up in the fridge.

* * *

 

 

The meal was edible and the dishes were taken care of before the house quieted down and everyone began to turn in for the night hours. Stretch made sure Blue was headed down to bed before turning to ask if Red could spare a cigarette only to see the front door close as Red left the house, possibly to head over to Grillby's.

Well, shit.

The only thing to do then was sleep his craving off. He sighed and stood up to head to the basement when Edge walked in and shut the basement door, pinning Stretch in place with an ember-like eyelight.

“Sit,” he commanded. “I wish to speak with you.”

Stretch scowled. “I'm too tired for this, Edgelord,” he shot back. “Fuck off and let me go to bed—“ He cut off with a yelp when his doppleganger snatched his soul in a blue hold and shoved him back down to the couch. “Hey, what gives!?”

“Be silent,” Edge hissed, stalking up and looming over Stretch, his eyelights gleaming brightly. He eyed over Stretch for a moment before reaching down and roughly holding the other Papyrus's jaw. “You need to learn to keep quiet sometimes, ash trash. In many ways here, it's the difference between life and death.”

He let go of Stretch's jaw, folding his hands behind his back. “I wasn't kidding when I said you're going to pull your weight around here. Your brother is enough of a homemaker to keep the house clean and running, but I can tell you barely wash your own clothes, let alone anyone else's. And I wouldn't trust you in the kitchen. So that leaves your options to the bare minimum.”

He began pacing in front of Stretch, his posture rod-straight. “I've thought about it, and I've come to the conclusion that your usefulness can be utilized in another way.”

Stretch glowered, twitching against the blue hold on his soul. “What are you on about?” he demanded. “Let me go!”

“Be. Silent.” Edge's tone turned as sharp as his moniker, his pacing coming to a halt. “Learn the laws of this world while you're in it, lest you perish in it, trash.” He leaned in closer, his eyelights looking disturbingly like droplets of blood gleaming in the light. “You're going to be here for some time. And in that time, I can be gracious and kind, or I can be cruel. Which one I decide depends entirely on you.”

Stretch's jaw twitched, feeling an impending sense of dread crawl over his spine. “...what do you want?” he asked, sounding much less courageous than he had intended. Edge's expression was a mix of amused and appraising, something that did nothing to ease his suspicions.

Edge actually smiled, a terrifying image in and of itself. “I want you to become my pet.”

Stretch stared, unable to process the statement for several long moments. “......what?” he said. “......WHAT?”

“I didn't stutter,” Edge replied. “You'll become my pet and earn your place here.” He folded his hands behind his back, a sinister gleam in his eyelights. “It's only good manners to pay such a kindness we're offering back. And I can promise you, you will not find a kinder offer ANYWHERE outside this house.”

“You're fuckin' insane,” Stretch muttered, twitching harder against the blue hold. “Insane and sick!”

“And KIND.” Edge leaned down, his eyelights glinting sharply—and most uncomfortably to Stretch—as he came close enough for Stretch to catch what smelled like a combination of blood and coffee on his breath. “Do you want to know what happens to low-LV Monsters who go unclaimed outside? Do you want a detailed description of the carnage I've seen on the sides of the road before I put some order in this gods-forsaken put of hell? Do you want to know what I've seen in the CAPITOL?” He shook his head slowly. “You really don't, trash.”

He leaned back, flicking his hand and releasing the blue hold from Stretch, who couldn't for the life of him muster up the will to move. “For the weaker breed like yourself and your brother, your only options are servitude to a higher-ranked Monster, or taking a dive off of Waterfall's Abyss in the hopes of a quick death.” He paused. “Well, there's also the option of picking off weak Monsters for the EXP. But something tells me that's not an option for you. So.” He smiled, looking far too happy for comfort.

“Stay here safe, or go out THERE. Which will it be?”

Stretch could KILL the bastard. He really, truly could. Out of the multiverse's Papyruses, this one was the worst of the worst, and Stretch felt things would be better if Fell never existed. To use the situation against him like this—against BLUE like this—!

“Or, you can simply sit there like a useless lump and do nothing,” Edge cut in, his nonchalant tone raising immediate suspicion. “One way or another...” He brought his hands out from behind his back, a black collar hooked onto his clawed finger. “...A Swap brother is going to be my pet. And quite frankly, Blue IS much cuter than you are.”

Stretch snarled, lurching up only to have his cervical bones caught in a firm, threatening grip. He went stock still, feeling a swirl of lethal intent in the hand that held his neck and just KNEW, deep down to his soul, that this hand could easily cleave his head from his shoulders.

Edge was dead serious.

And just from the context, Edge wasn't even the WORST he could run into.

Although at this moment, the worst was literally at his metaphorical throat and Stretch wanted to LIVE.

Stretch's body trembled as he felt his frame submit under the hold of the stronger Monster, and Edge let him go, letting him drop back onto the couch.

“Good boy,” Edge said, that terrifying grin leering down at him again. “You'll find that I can be very kind when I am obeyed, ash trash. And after all...”

He latched the collar around Stretch's cervical bones, clipping it shut before giving Stretch's skull a condescending pat.

“...it's not like you'll be here forever.”

Stretch felt as though his soul had been signed away to the devil.

And gods, he could REALLY use a cigarette.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been awhile to update, but here it is finally!

 

_“There are rules you will be following, trash.”_

Stretch curled up on his pallet, tugging his hood over his head to further conceal the collar around his neck bones and was glad that Edge gave him THAT much dignity to keep.

_“You will address me only as 'Sir' from now on.”_

He still felt disgust with himself; he had agreed to be that asshole's pet far too easily. If only he had told him where to shove that 'kind' demand, if only he'd thought of a threat of his own to come back with. 

_“You will not leave this house without my company.”_

Would it even be as bad as Edge said out there? This WAS the Underground, even in another universe; Stretch knew some of the best hiding places if push came to shove. He could just wait it out until...

_“You will obey me without question.”_

How would he even know when the machine was up and running again? He was sure if he took Blue and ran, Edge wouldn't allow Red to finish working on it out of spite alone.

_“You will be allowed three hours a day to work on the machine; the rest of the time, you're mine.”_

Stretch clenched his eye sockets closed, tugging the threadbare blanket around him as he fought to go to sleep, hoping and praying that the machine would be completed quickly. It was already too much being here as it was, and his servitude to the Edgelord hadn't even begun yet. It was all he could do to not grab Blue and bust through the basement door and escape.

He let out a shaky sigh, feeling exhaustion finally take him over as he drifted off to sleep.

_“Obey me and things will run smoothly. Disregard my orders...well, you'll see just how cruel my world can be.”_

* * *

 

 

Whatever Stretch had been expecting, it had not been this.

Edge was actually being NICE to him.

From the time he woke up at what he assumed to be the crack of dawn hours when summoned, Edge had been tolerably nice. He had Stretch make coffee—black with two sugars—and actually thanked him. Stretch stared for a few stunned moments bit didn't have time to question it before Red and Blue came in, the scent of coffee having awoken them.

There were no real commands given when the other two were around; as soon as Red and Blue were out of earshot, however, Edge had Stretch performing the most mundane tasks. Making meals, fetching miscellaneous items, things like that.

It was...odd.

It wasn't even BAD. And that was the scariest part. This was Fell, a world where comfort and peace of mind were impossibilities...or at very least expensive as hell. For Stretch to have gotten through this day without pain or humiliation was only making him more paranoid.

He sat at the dinner table with the others, picking idly at the meal his brother made and trying to avoid eye contact with Edge. His nerves drained his appetite and made him CRAVE a cigarette something fierce.

Through a blur, the meal was eaten , the dishes were taken care of, and everyone went their own ways. Edge to the living room, Red out for Grillby's, Blue into the basement for some sleep, and Stretch—

“Ash trash,” came the slammed brakes on Stretch's nightly routine, his hand flinching over the basement doorknob. He clenched his hand, glancing back.

“....yeah?” he asked. He swore he felt the temperature rise in the room.

“How did I say you were to address me, trash?” Edge demanded crisply. Stretch bit back a much ruder retort.

“...yeah...SIR?” he reiterated, turning around. Edge glowered at him, his arms and legs crossed in obvious displeasure.

“Come here.”

Stretch's frame tensed, grinding his teeth before turning and walking over to Edge. “Yes?” he asked testily, adding a hasty, “SIR,” when Edge's eyelights flashed dangerously. Edge didn't seem very placated, giving Stretch an irritated look before uncrossing his arms.

“Kneel.”

Stretch's jaw twitched. “What.”

“Did you hear me stutter?” Edge snarked. “Kneel. And do not make me say it again.”

Stretch flexed his hands tightly, swallowing down a growl and forced himself to kneel on the floor, knowing—just KNOWING—that this had been coming. He kept his jaw clenched to avoid saying something he shouldn't, and averted his eyelights, not wanting to psyche himself out any further.

A rustling around his neck bones and a soft _click_ made him look down.

He saw a leash attached to his collar.

A LEASH.

“What the hell is this!?” he demanded, then yelped when Edge gave the leash a hard tug, jerking him forward onto all fours.

“Be quiet,” Edge said firmly, his hand flexing around the end of the leash. “Pets should be on a leash, especially when they're untrained as you are.”

Stretch stared at Edge incredulously, feeling a twisting wrench in his soul. “This isn't fuckin' funny, Edgelord! This isn't—“ He was cut off by another sharp tug on the leash.

“Shut. Your. Jaw.” Edge emphasized each word with a hard tug before letting the leash go lax. “This is exactly my point. You can't follow rules, you're too mouthy, and you don't know how to address your betters. I aim to change that.”

Stretch worried for the health and safety of his neck bones, wanting to reach up and tear the leash away but knowing he was in no position to do so. Where he was, Edge could spear him through in any way before Stretch could even MOVE. He clenched his fists, his bones rattling softly as he forced himself to remain still, bracing himself for the worst.

A hand on his skull made him flinch, and his frame went stock-still as the hand brushed over his skull, lifted, and repeated. It took him several moments to realize that Edge was PETTING him.

“Isn't that better?” Edge purred, the tone as sweet as arsenic-laced candy. “When you're obedient and submissive, I can be a good Sir.”

Stretch clenched his jaw tightly, unable to stop the indignant short growl that rattled his frame. The hand atop his skull paused.

“Or,” Edge continued, the sharpened tips of his gloves pressing slightly into the cranial bone, “I can retract my merciful stance in allowing this to continue privately and invite your brother up here to witness everything. No taking THAT away once witnessed.”

His fingers relaxed. “So what's it going to be, pet?”

Stretch's soul nearly froze over at the idea of his brother being witness to this. No. No, he couldn't do that, not to Blue, and not to himself. Choking back a scream, a sob, and at least twelve profane words, Stretch's frame slumped in defeat. The hand on his skull resumed the gentle petting as he heard Edge hum in a pleased manner.

“Good pet,” Edge murmured. “Very good.” He laxed his tug on the leash, resuming his petting as he picked up a few files and browsed through them.

Stretch was in HELL. When Edge said 'pet', he didn't think it would be LITERAL. Yet here he was, kneeling next to the edgelord and having his skull pet like he was a dog beast. Absolutely humiliating.

Edge seemed more than content with simply petting Stretch, not saying anything through his paperwork even when Stretch got tired of kneeling and unconsciously leaned against the side of Edge's chair. The tedium drove Stretch to a nap, zoning out against Edge's chair and being lulled by the petting and silence.

Stretch became deftly aware of fingers tracing along the discs between his cervical vertebrae, the sensation sending shivering jolts down his spine. It wasn't unpleasant, per se, but the effects and implications were...

…..uncomfortable.

The light touches continued, almost lazily sliding over the rises and dips of the bones, definitely making the lines of magic quiver in response. It didn't take long until Stretch realized—to his horror—that the native Papyrus's ministrations was stirring his magic in arousal. He made a move to draw back but Edge's hand was immovable as though predicting that reaction.

_Oh dear gods be merciful—_

“Go to bed.”

Stretch's head shot up, seeing that Edge was still looking over his paperwork, his hand removed from Stretch's skull like it had never even been there to begin with. He gave a sideways glance with a flickering eyelight when Stretch remained on the floor, confused. “Did I stutter? Go to bed.”

Stretch numbly stood up and walked toward the basement door, a thousand and one questions running through his skull. He curled up in the pallet next to his brother's, staring at the darkness, the lingering tingle of Edge's touch still brushing against his bones.

* * *

 

 

It was the same thing for the next couple of days.

Wake up, be given mundane tasks when in front of Red and Blue, and be subjected to further humiliation when left alone with Edge. Being set to the floor, petted over, and even having to eat from Edge's hand...

Absolutely humiliating.

Stretch wanted nothing more than to just LEAVE, but he knew just as much as Red did that construction of the machine couldn't be rushed, especially with the programming. He and Blue were stuck here until it was done and tested.

He wouldn't risk his brother's life again. Blue was still recovering since the medicine had run out and Edge couldn't be assed to buy more. Regular meals and rest was making up for the remainder of his HP, and the atmosphere of Fell wasn't making it easy. It seemed that here, HP was easy to lose and tough as nails to regain while EXP was more valuable than G.

Blue was taking it all in stride, though. He didn't let his injuries show, and spent his time cooking and cleaning in between recovery naps. Much of the cleaning time was harping at Red for how untidy the native Sans's room was, and it seemed Red was intent on getting his amusement while he could, messing his room up every time Blue cleaned it.

If anything, Stretch was just happy Edge was leaving his brother alone. He already saw the hell Edge put his own brother through, and would be dust before he let the edgelord put one phalange on Blue. Edge was tidy enough as it was, but didn't stop Red from antagonizing Blue with the re-dirtying, figuring it was a way to keep them BOTH out of trouble.

Despite Edge's genial attitude toward Blue, Stretch didn't let his guard down for an instant. Edge already threatened to put Blue in Stretch's position, and Stretch knew Edge was just sadistic enough to go through with it if he didn't toe the line. So he prostrated himself to the asshole's demeaning whims and allowed himself to be petted and stroked and...

...for lack of a better term, _'edged'_.

Edge's ministrations always ended up being teasing and almost sensual, waiting until JUST when Stretch's magic was close to reaching a level ready for intimacy before stopping and shooing Stretch on his way.

And it was INFURIATINGLY FRUSTRATING.

It was bad enough being subjected to the demeaning behavior, but to be that involved in it that he had to bite back a whimper every time Edge told him to go to bed? Like he WANTED to stay and...finish?

Nausea-inducing, was what it was. It made him loathe the sessions after dinner, after Edge was oh-so genial and polite and as soon as the basement door shut, snapped his fingers and pointed to the floor next to him. And like a trained dog beast, Stretch obeyed.

It wasn't until day five that he realized he wasn't just doing it out of duty; when he arched his spine into Edge's hand before the other had a chance to touch him, it was like a punch to his nonexistent gut.

He could NOT be liking this.

The hand on his scapula was still, almost thoughtfully so, and Stretch felt a sense of dread crawl over his bones.

Edge COULDN'T have noticed that. He COULDN'T.

Soft, barely-audible dark chuckling sent a spike of cold down his spine, a sound that was so WRONG in this world yet fit in just right. The hand on his scapula shifted up to cup the back of his skull, pressing in so Stretch's cheekbone was leaned into Edge's femur.

“Enjoying yourself, pet?” Edge purred above him, keeping his hold firm on Stretch's skull. “No use denying it. I can sense how much you desire my touch.”

Stretch clenched his teeth tightly. “You're so full of yourself...” he muttered through his teeth, hissing when sharpened phalanges pressed into his skull.

“Watch your tone, mutt.” Edge rummaged around, taking out the leash. “In front.”

He was going to crack a tooth from the grinding, Stretch thought as he shifted from Edge's side to in front of him, keeping his eyelights pointedly averted as the native Papyrus clipped the leash to the ring of his collar. Edge tugged lightly on the leash, enough to make Stretch's skull tip up.

“Are you listening to me?” Edge asked, keeping the leash taut. Stretch bit back a sarcastic reply and gave a jerky nod. “Good. Now undo my pants.”

Stretch's head snapped forward, his eyelights shrinking to pinpricks. “WHAT!?” he yelped, hissing when Edge jerked on the leash.

“Tone,” Edge intoned. “Unless you WANT an audience, mutt. Now undo my pants.”

Unconsciously, Stretch's eyelights flicked to Edge's pelvis, feeling a wrench in his soul when he saw a small hint of red ectoplasmic glow behind the pants. _This wasn't happening._

There was a soft suck of teeth above him, the leash slacking slightly. “I'm growing impatient,” Edge growled. “You have ten seconds to obey before I flip a G to see which Sans gets to play audience to—“

“Okay, okay, fuck!” Stretch snapped, flexing his hand tightly. “Prick.”

“Astute observation,” Edge replied, tightening the leash again. “But wait until you see it before you judge it.” Stretch clenched his jaw to keep the string of curses at bay, his shaking hands raising to undo Edge's belt.

He was going to kill him. When this was over and the machine was finished and he was back in his own universe, he was going to send a letter bomb to the fucker. Maybe poison. A spring-loaded spike to the skull, that sounded good right about now...

His soothing thoughts were interrupted when he tugged Edge's pants open and was greeted with the display of red ectoplasm formed in a large tendril-like appendage.

Stretch was no stranger to different forms of Monster genitals, least of all his own. He was 93% sure, however, that Edge's was a little thicker than his own and had an almost spicy musk radiate from the ectoplasmic formation. If the situation weren't so fucked up, Stretch would honestly have been colored impressed and, admittedly, raring to go.

But of course any semblance of eroticism had to be ruined when the edgelord pulled on the leash, making him wonder just how long he had been staring at it. “I know it's beautiful,” Edge scoffed with a hint of almost teasing pride in his voice, “but it's not out just to stare at, and I know it's not the first one you've had in your mouth. So get to it.”

Stretch briefly toyed with the idea of biting it just to see what would happen, but decided that the first ten ideas of what MIGHT happen wasn't worth it in the end. Fine, whatever, he'd get the edgelord off and then sleep it off like a bad hangover. In any case, he thought as he waited for Edge to slacken the leash so he could lean forward, he knew what he was doing. He was no stranger to casual sex with a number of Monster species, Skeletons included.

He'd be inclined to pretend it was Comic, but he was nowhere near as big or as thick as Edge, and the ectoplasmic scent was completely different. There was really no getting around this save for doing what he knew how to do best.

Stretch set to work, forming a tongue and licking over Edge's tendril as he stroked it, absently wondering if it would be worth all this if he was able to make Edge come undone. Not to brag, but Stretch WAS pretty proficient with casual oral and if he could make that lazy Comic become enthused, he could pull a reaction from Edge.

Despite his best efforts, however, Edge seemed completely neutral about the affair; Stretch glanced up the edgelord was reading through his goddamn paperwork, keeping the leash wrapped around his hand in case of needing to pull it.

This was fucking ridiculous and humiliating. If he was going to be doing this, the LEAST Edge could do was pay some fucking attention! His ire must have been translated through his blowjob because Edge glanced down in mild amusement.

“Do you want more attention paid to you, mutt?” he asked, leaning his skull on one hand. “I didn't take you to be an attention whore, but then again...” His smile broadened when he heard—and felt—Stretch growl at him. He tugged on the leash, making it taut against the collar. “Hurry up then, trash.”

Stretch would have loved nothing more than to just bite down hard but he knew better than to push his luck. He focused on the task at hand, keeping his eyelights purposely averted until a hand clamped on the back of his skull and kept him firmly in place. It took him a moment to realize what that meant, but it was a moment too late before he found himself with a mouthful of magic residue.

With Edge's unyeilding hold, he was left with no choice but to swallow, and felt more than a touch ashamed that he was able to do so with little effort. Finally, Edge let go of his skull and allowed him to lean back, resisting the urge to induce vomiting as he sat back and wiped his mandible.

Edge's hand on his skull made him flinch, but the hand merely petted lightly. “Good job,” the edgelord purred. “You're good enough with your mouth, mutt...we'll see what the rest of you can do later.” He reached down and unclipped the leash from the collar. “Go to bed.”

Stretch clenched his fists tightly, forcing his shaking legs to carry him up and to the basement door, wanting nothing more than to vomit, scream, and cry all at once. As he laid down quietly next to Blue, who was dozing peacefully, he couldn't help but be reminded of his brother's extra-spicy taco seasoning, finding it a fitting aftertaste to Edge's magic.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well after FOREVER, it's done. *lies down sobbing*

Stretch wanted nothing more than to go home more than when he wanted nothing more than to return to Edge's side.

It was too much to handle, emotionally or psychologically. The vileness of the situation was mixing into the physical desire and pleasure like oil and water, leaving Stretch feeling completely torn after every session.

Edge wasn't kidding when he said he'd make use of the rest of Stretch. Every time was different, but none very pleasant...emotionally, anyway. Stretch hated how Edge was able to make him ENJOY it.

There was the degradation and the humiliation, naturally...but Edge seemed to go out of his way to make his touches light and sensual, to keep his voice as a low, guttural purr, keep his movements slow, firm, and UNBEARABLY restrained.

It was humiliating, craving Edge's touch and wordlessly begging for more night after night and leaving for the basement after, almost always unsatisfied in return.

Stretch found himself tucked in the corner of the basement more than once, gagging himself by biting his hoodie as he fondled his pelvis in an attempt to relieve himself of the arousal that Edge was never kind enough to satisfy. He felt shamed that he couldn't force himself to do so in front of Edge but rather down in the basement with his brother within spitting distance.

He supposed that's what made him break the most cardinal rule of all: _Don't leave the house without Edge._

The opportunity arose when Red was away at Grillby's, Blue was taking a nap, and Edge was going out to run an errand. Stretch managed to find a pack of cigarettes that belonged to Red hidden under the couch cushion and the intense desire for a smoke (or two) had him going outside and back around the house, flicking open the lighter and lighting one up.

GODS, it felt great to have that buzz going again, he thought in ecstasy as he savored the cigarette in long, drawn-out drags. This was well worth whatever punishment the edgelord could come up with later.

He was halfway through the cigarette when he became aware of the presence of LV—more than one of it—and he looked up in time to see at least four Monsters step out into view. Just at glance, he recognized this universe's version of his buddies Chester the Hare Monster and Doggo, and the other two were either too changed or completely different Monsters than who he knew. None of them, he felt, were at all what he felt to be familiar or safe.

“Lookie here boys,” Doggo growled, his tongue lapping at his sharpened teeth. “A nice fresh set of bones to chew on.”

“I dunno, Doggo,” Chester muttered. “A Skeleton Monster, an' near th' Lieutenant's house?” His nose twitched. “...he smells like him too.”

Stretch's teeth clenched around his cigarette, his hand twitching to fight his way out when his arm was wrenched behind him by one of the Monsters in a grip with intent that threatened his HP. It was a warning that kept him from struggling; this was Fell, and these Monsters were no different than Edge when it came to intent to dust.

Doggo leaned in closer, growling through his teeth. “Trying to pull one over on us, chew toy?” He took Stretch's jaw in his paw, the claws digging in just enough to be painful. “I'm wondering which of your bones will be tastiest to chew on first.”

“Let me go!” Stretch hissed, jerking his jaw from Doggo's grasp, his hoodie shifting to show the collar looped around his cervical bones. Out of the corner of his eye socket, he saw Doggo visibly pause at the sight of it, claws twitching as though wondering what to do next. The pause was only for a moment, and then Doggo grabbed Stretch's skull with one hand and jerked it to the side, showing off a length of neck vertebrae.

“I think we'll start here,” Doggo growled, visibly salivating as he leaned in, jaws parting. Stretch froze, his soul hammering wildly in his rib cage as he braced himself for pain and possible dusting, but the pain never came.

Instead, the hold on him was thrown off as sharp bones tinged in red magic flew out of nowhere and impaled the Monsters, eliciting yelps and howls from them. Stretch dropped to the snow, his bones rattling from shaking as a sharp staccato of snow-crunched footsteps approached and Stretch saw a pair of familiar red boots in his line of vision.

The homicidal aura permeating the area was more of a giveaway than the boots, and Stretch felt his soul shrivel at the deadly tone Edge spoke with. “You backwater pissants are even more dimwitted and brainless than even I could imagine!” he snarled. Stretch wondered about Edge's actual anger for only a moment before his hoodie was yanked up, showing off his collar. “Did you not SEE this, you simpering bitch!?” Edge snapped at Doggo. “I would think a DOG would know better than to touch someone else's property!”

Doggo's slumped form looked torn between heeling and hackling, his expression stubborn but fearful. “We didn't do ANYTHING to him!” he growled, letting out a yelp when Edge kicked his side.

“Only because you were caught, you idiot!” Edge grabbed the bone impaling Doggo's shoulder and twisted it hard before pulling it out, not bothered by the Dog's keen of pain before he kicked him again. “You have five seconds to get out of my sight, or be damned what Captain Undyne will say, she's losing a Dog in her ranks.”

Doggo didn't need any further prompting as he scurried off, stumbling in the snow and leaving red stains as he went. Edge grabbed Stretch's hoodie again, pushing him into something solid and Stretch instantly recognized Red's arms hastily curl around him to prevent him from falling.

“Get him inside the house!” Edge barked to his brother. “And get him changed out of those clothes. I can smell those disgusting cigarettes on him.” He turned away from Stretch and Red, focusing instead on the remaining three Monsters with no intention at all to give them the mercy he'd shown Doggo.

Stretch wasn't left to ponder the repercussions for even a moment as Red pulled him inside and shut the door behind him, silently moving them both upstairs and into the bathroom, shutting that door too before his frame finally relaxed.

“You got off fuckin' lucky, Stretch,” Red remarked, reaching out and tenderly prodding at the arm Stretch had pulled behind him. “You break or dislocate anything?”

“N...no,” Stretch muttered. “Just a little sore, that's all.” GODS he needed another cigarette.

Red sighed. “Good,” he said, then slid off Stretch's hoodie in one quick motion, tossing it into the laundry pile Blue hadn't gotten to yet before examining the arm and shoulder anyway. “Boss was gonna completely flip his shit if you got so much as bruised...”

Stretch couldn't help the bark of laughter that rattled his frame. “THAT wasn't him 'losing his shit'?” he asked weakly. Red gave him a look that plainly said 'are you fucking serious'.

“THAT was Boss in a charitable mood, considering th' circumstances,” Red replied, putting Stretch's arm down. “You don't ever touch a Monster's property. It's just not done.”

Stretch's hand unconsciously touched the collar around his cervicals before he forced it down, his cheekbones burning at the knowledge that Red KNEW. “Fuuuuuuuuuuck....” he muttered, rubbing his face. “Property? The fuck is even WRONG with this world!?”

“Hey, don't knock th' system,” Red replied, crossing his arms. “It works down here. Weak Monsters....Monsters with soft souls and innocent consciences...they have no hope of survival unless they're under the possession of stronger Monsters that have status in th' Underground.” He paused, reaching under his collar and hooking his finger around a red collar and tugging it up to show. “What, you think this is just for decoration? Down here, it's my LIFELINE.”

He tucked the collar away, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Kinda felt jealous that Boss got one for ya. And yours is nicer too.” He gave Stretch a lewd grin. “Betcha get all the nice perks of servitude too.”

Stretch felt a rush of embarrassment and humiliation; had Red KNOWN about this the whole damn time!? Oh gods, did BLUE know!?

“Blueberry's in the dark, cool yer bones,” Red said. “An' just deal with it a little longer. It's all you CAN do down here.” He gathered up the laundry, opening the door and giving pause. “...Boss is down there dusting Monsters for touching you, Stretch,” he said. “You might think it's humiliation, but down here, that's the sincerest form of flattery you could fuckin' IMAGINE.”

He left the bathroom, and Stretch sat back in grim contemplation before stripping off the rest of his clothes and turning on the shower.

The hot water drummed against his cold bones yet it did nothing to warm him up. He could only think of what could have happened if Edge hadn't been there. Of how much worse it could have been had he not had this collar around his neck bones.

This was an uncomfortable revelation to him, that he was being kept safe and untouchable with Edge's methods, and it didn't seem to be completely for Edge's own amusement and pleasure. Blue being kept inside and out of sight, Stretch having a badge of ownership on him at all times; Edge was PROTECTING them.

…..............it sucked. It really, REALLY sucked.

Stretch finished rinsing his bones and turned off the water, grabbing a towel and drying his bones off, turning to his clothes with intent to put them back on despite being dirty when the bathroom door opened.

Edge gave Stretch a quick once-over, glancing at Stretch's hand reaching for the clothes. “They're dirty,” he said shortly. “Leave them for Blue.” He turned on heel and headed toward his bedroom with clear intent for Stretch to follow. Stretch did so, his hands clenching tightly around the towel as a last shred of modesty as he tailed Edge into the room.

Much like the rest of Edge and his demeanor, the room was dark and pin-tidy with nothing out of place. It hardly seemed personalized and rarely used, which Stretch figured was the case, as many late times Edge was out at work. He stood awkwardly to the side as Edge rifled in the closet and brought out a black tank top and a pair of worn jeans.

“They're old, but they should fit,” Edge said, handing them over. “And you had best not get that disgusting cigarette smell on them.”

Stretch numbly reached out and took them, giving them a quick feel with his phalanges before tugging them on; the denim was light and very worn-in and the same felt of the tank top. The outfit was very comfortable, if not leaving him feeling slightly exposed with the threadbare make of the material. He smoothed the tank top with his hands, and got the sudden realization that it was leaving the collar out on display. His hand shot up to it and as if getting the message, Edge spoke up.

“Your filthy hoodie will be clean before tomorrow,” he said shortly. “Not that you should even worry about it.”

That was true; the collar WAS a literal saving grace in this world and having it on display was safer than keeping it tucked down the collar of his hoodie. Thinking about what could have happened then seemed almost WORTH his brother seeing and asking questions.

“....why are you doing this?”

Edge looked up from tidying his closet, glancing back at Stretch with dim red eyelights. “What do you mean?”

“Don't bullshit me,” Stretch muttered, rubbing his arm. “You don't HAVE to do anything like this in Fell, do you? It's no trouble for YOU if me an' my brother dust here. It's YOUR universe. And nothing good here is given for free, even to your own damn family.” He sat down hard on the bed, all fight and strength leaving him.

“...so what is it? My humiliation? Holding something over my head? Just wanting a new outlet for your cruelty?” He rubbed his face, his shoulder slumping. “...what does any of this mean?”

There was nothing but silence in the room for the longest time before Stretch heard footsteps cross the floor and was suddenly pinned back on the bed, staring up into those cold red eyelights.

“You're so close and yet so blind to things, ash trash,” Edge growled, his hands clasping Stretch's forearm bones. “You're right. Kindness has a price here, and the price for it depends on the Monster. I may be cruel, but I am not unfair.

“My brother would be dust without me. His HP is handicapped, he's a godsdamned drunk, and if left alone he'd be devoured without mercy.” He hooked a finger into the collar ring, tugging it lightly.

“When others see this, they know to whom Sans belongs, and the price they pay by touching him. Do you really think if I was so cruel, I would bother letting him wear it? I passed that same kindness to you. You and your brother are under my protection while you are here. It would make no difference if you were outside smoking your disgusting cigarettes or inside on your knees.”

Stretch felt a surge of indignation swell in his soul. “Then why the fuck would you make me, you ass!?” he snapped. “What was the POINT of it!?”

Edge grinned. “You haven't figured it out yet?” he asked. “Even Sans could have told you; I'm a narcissist, and I happen to enjoy seeing a side of myself I could never indulge in.” He took Stretch's jaw in his hand, a red ectoplasmic tongue slithering from between his teeth. “And I must say, I do look good on my knees.”

Stretch's indignant retort was cut off with a rough kiss, one that was forceful and passionate enough to make him submit. Accept. Reciprocate.

Gods, he hated himself.

Edge scraped his sharpened teeth over Stretch's mandible, a growl rattling his frame. “You might have a Papyrus's pride, trash,” he said, “but you're too much like my brother to not be able to see through.” He gave the collar another tug. “Sans gave up feeling shame for giving up control long ago. And that's what YOU want too, and you know it. You want to stop shouldering everything...you want to give in, and give someone else the reins to your life.”

He nuzzled the side of Stretch's skull, grinning. “Just give in.”

Stretch stared up at the dark ceiling, not knowing if he should laugh or cry or scream or maybe all three at once because damn if that wasn't accurate in every way.

And he hated himself.

So fucking much.

Even more now that he turned his head to Edge's and kissed him.

He was already in hell. How much farther could he fall by consorting with the devil?

* * *

 

 

Despite the harshness of Fell, the early morning hours were almost peaceful. The late crawlers were finished with business and the day workers had yet to get their day started, so it left the window between making coffee and Edge leaving for work open for quiet.

Stretch was loathe to get such early starts in his own universe, but the atmosphere of Fell left him savoring the peace before the rest of the Underground woke up to get the malice underway. He took the time to get the coffee started and take the first cup for himself, reflecting over the previous night.

It had been humbling to the point of degrading. It had been rough. It had been loveless.

But gods above and below, Stretch hadn't wanted it to end.

It almost seemed like it hadn't, since Stretch even woke up in the edgelord's bed so who KNEW when it had really ended?

Stretch sipped his coffee silently, not even noticing he had an audience until it made physical contact with him. He nearly spewed on his sip of coffee when gloved hands curled around his iliac crests.

“You're getting more prompt with your morning coffee, ash trash,” Edge growled, grinning. “Good job.”

Stretch felt a flush from his skull to his collarbones, his hands trembling as he fixed Edge up a cup, adding in the perfect amount of sugar to satiate the edgelord before handing it over. Edge took it and sipped from it, giving Stretch a smoldering look over the rim. “You learn quick when given the proper...incentive.” He lowered the cup, leaning closer. “I wonder what incentive it would take to get you to cook for me.”

He reached up and tipped Stretch's jaw up with his fingertips, kissing him lightly.

“....Papy?”

Stretch and Edge turned around sharply, seeing Blue standing in the basement doorway, his cerulean eyelights wide and flicking back and forth between the two Papyruses. “....what is going on?”

Stretch's mind went into panic mode as he mentally flailed for something to say—some excuse he could use—!—when Edge's arm casually slung over his shoulders and pulled him close.

“Oh, good morning Blue,” Edge greeted, his tone smooth as the coffee in his cup. “Your brother made coffee, if you want some.”

Blue's eyelights continued to shift between the two. “....okay...” he said slowly. “But....what was....you two were just...”

“...bro, I...” Stretch stammered, settling on telling a half-truth when Edge interrupted with,

“We're dating.”

Edge casually sipped his coffee again, unaffected by the gaping of the two Swap brothers. “We got to know each other a little better, and even began getting along.” He gave Stretch a smile that was in no way, shape, or form loving or tender, but Stretch couldn't help the flush that spread over his cheekbones.

Of ALL the things for Edge to say, WHY did it have to be THAT!?

“Well that's good!”

Wait, what?”

Blue shut the basement door behind him, smiling. “It's good that you're finally getting along!” he chirped. “I knew you two could, if you just gave each other a chance!” His expression went stern, his hands going to his hips. “But don't think for a second you're going to be distracted with dating. Just because you like each other now doesn't mean you're going to be canoodling all the time. It's simply indecent!”

“Perish the thought,” Edge said, though he looked close to actually laughing. “I wouldn't want Stretch slacking off, now would I?” He gave Stretch a lewd look before draining the rest of his coffee cup and putting it on the counter. “Until later.” He headed out of the kitchen and to the stairs, shouting for Red to get a move on before he wrote him up for lateness.

“It's good you're finally getting along, Papy!” Blue said, smiling. “I knew they were really good deep down. And now you have a datemate!” He started tidying up the kitchen. “Ahh, little brothers grow up so fast...”

Stretch just stood there, emotionally numb and mentally fizzled out. He had no answer for his brother. He had no retort for Edge's falsification.

He had nothing.

“Give me a minute to grab a damn coffee, ya slave driver!” Red groused to Edge as he walked into the kitchen. “Yo, Blueberry, give me one to go.”

“You COULD say 'please' one of these days, Red!” Blue admonished, but conceded in rifling among the cabinets for a thermos to put the coffee in. While his back was turned, Red silently and smoothly crossed the kitchen for an apple on the table and slipped a folded-up piece of paper into Stretch's hand before grabbing the cup as soon as it was handed over.

“SANS! HURRY UP!”

“KEEP YER ARMOR ON, BOSS, I'M COMING!” Red glanced at Stretch with an expression that said quite a few things before turning and heading out of the house with his brother, the sound of several locks signifying another day out at work for them.

“Red needs some manners,” Blue huffed before heading to the stairs to get laundry started, leaving Stretch by himself in the kitchen with the note.

Stretch flexed his hands for a moment before unfolding the paper and reading it.

**it's finished.**

His soul pounded in his rib cage, adrenaline pumping through his frame with newfound purpose and urgency. Shoving the paper into his pocket, he bolted upstairs and found Blue fetching laundry from Red's room, not pausing before scooping his smaller brother up in his arms.

“HEY—Papy, what gives!?”

“We're leaving, Blue,” Stretch said, rushing downstairs and fumbling with the locks on the back door to get them open. 

“Papy, what's going on? Why....what happened? What—“

“Sans, just shut up for five seconds, I promise we'll talk when we're home!” Stretch got the door open and quickly made his way to the shed, hurrying to the machine and seeing that Red obviously did the finishing touches on it whilst he was—

NO. LATER.

Stretch felt his skull perspire as he quickly typed in coding and felt a wave of euphoria when the machine started up smoothly. He quickly situated himself into it, holding his brother to him tightly.

“Papyrus, talk to me!” Blue cried, sounding incredibly worried. “I thought everything was okay!”

Stretch said nothing, only tightening his hold on Blue as the world around them disassembled and faded them into the Void.

* * *

 

 

**EPILOGUE**

 

In the end, Stretch knew he could never tell Blue everything. That just wasn't an option, ever. Eventually Blue stopped asking questions and set to readjusting to life back in his own universe, all too quickly picking up where he last left off as puzzles, training, and cooking became the norm once more.

If only it was that easy for Stretch to forget and move on. Every day, every moment, he was plagued by the memory of what had happened, unable to get the sensations to wash off of his bones no matter how hard he tried. None of his usual vices could overshadow what Edge had replaced them with.

He had become addicted to a hate so powerful he CRAVED it.

And for what?

Protection against a world he could have tried harder to survive in solitude? Throwing aside his dignity, his pride, to become the pet of that...that......!

Stretch spat bitterly into the snow, even his cigarettes doing nothing to improve his mood or get the taste of Edge's sharp spice of magic out of his mouth. It was something more addicting than the magical strain of nicotine he had become so accustomed to, and something Stretch hated to crave.

He glowered at the half-spent cigarette before snuffing it out in the snow and pocketing the unused half, leaning against the side of his house with a shaky sigh.

Gods, he had this addiction BAD.

And he HATED himself for it.

Stretch glanced up, seeing his brother's bedroom light off, signaling that Blue had gone to bed. Normally he'd be on his way to Muffet's for a bottle of mead and a good lay but now? Lights off had grown to mean one thing over weeks he spent in Fell...and he was starting to feel it.

He looked between the path down to Muffet's and the door to his basement, feeling his bones crawl with....

….desire.

On autopilot, his hands unlocked the door and opened it, shutting it behind him and leaving him in the dimness of the basement, alone with the machine.

He had finished it himself some time ago for lack of anything better to do with his sleepless nights, and now it was ready to be used whenever he liked.

But he didn't LIKE to. He was LOATHED to use it.

So why?

Why was he turning it on?

Why were his fingers typing in a code?

Why was he crawling inside of it?

….......why was he here?

….......and more importantly, why was HE here?

Blood-red eyelights glimmered in the darkness of the basement of the deathly musk-scented world, looking almost expectant. Neither said a word for what seemed like hours.

“You kept me waiting, ash trash,” Edge purred, his heeled boots clacking on the basement floor as he crossed the basement in three long strides. “All the time, for you to crawl back to me like the beast you are.”

“I didn't crawl back, edgelord,” Stretch bit back with the last shred of nerve he had managed to scrounge up. Edge smirked, his hand shooting out and burying into Stretch's hoodie, looping around a collar and jerking it up.

“Oh? Then why do you come here with your master's mark of ownership around your pathetic neck?” he retorted, pulling Stretch closer. “I hope you don't have any plans, because you need a good punishment for making me wait so long.”

Stretch scowled, unable to quell down the orange flush over his cheekbones. “I didn't come back for a godsdamned punishment,” he growled. “I don't know WHY the fuck I came back, I just.....I.....” He winced, hating with a passion how disgustingly stupid he sounded.

Edge laughed, letting the collar go and turning around, folding his hands behind his back. “It's almost cute how torn you are,” he purred. “And I'm feeling a bit pleased that you came back at all, considering how stubborn you are. So...I might be feeling charitable. Kind, even.” His grin broadened. “For a price.”

Stretch clenched his hands, staring at the floor as his emotions swirled within him ranging from seething hatred to almost overwhelming desire. “....what's your price?” he finally asked.

Edge chuckled darkly, turning back around, a chain leash clenched between his hands. “How much do you think my kindness is worth?”

Even now, Stretch thought that the price of kindness was too high.

But he was going to pay it anyway.

 


End file.
